It was truly a sight to behold.

Jordan had fallen asleep on the couch after having gone partying. The cable box was still on, but the display wasn't, and the remote had apparently slipped out of her hand as it was on the floor next her. He sighed and shook his head, amused.

It had been the third time just this week that this had happened, and Lance was getting a little concerned about her sleeping patterns. He unfolded a large, heavy blanket from off of the back of the couch, preparing to throw it over her sleeping form, and immediately froze.

What a form it was.

A strapless, silky-looking black top, a short black jean skirt, glittering Mardi Gras beads still hanging haphazardly off of her neck, and that incredible, shiny chestnut hair tumbling around her shoulders.

She chose that moment to moan a little and toss her head to the side.

Lance found himself dropping the blanket and walking swiftly over to her side, positioning his arms to be on either side of her.

He studied her intently. Jordan was sexy, no doubt about that. It was a wonder that she hadn't come home with anyone tonight. Of course, she was pretty careful about that since 'the incident'... to be fair, that was the first and only one of her one-night-stands that he'd ever decked out of jealousy. Well, she thought it was because Lance thought the guy was gay and just using her to convince his straight friends that he wasn't.

That was no coincidence, either. He wouldn't want her to think that he thought of her that way. She would switch roommates and never talk to him again in a snap. No, not being able to tell her how he really saw her was perfectly fine. As long as she would still be able to fall asleep on his shoulder during one of their 'movie nights', wake up in the morning on top of him (After some repositioning, of course. Falling asleep sitting up was really bad on the neck.), and not mind one way or another.

So now, with Lance's arms straddling her torso and his face dangerously close to hers, Jordan evidently decided to wake up. Her eyes, the color of rich cocoa, opened slightly, then squeezed shut and opened again, only to open almost as wide as they could when she met his intense blue stare.

Lance mentally flinched as she woke, but his eyes never faltered. It would have been easy to blame his actions on some tequila that he hadn't had (but she didn't know that, did she?), except for one factor that he had been studying before her waking – the extremely soft, delectable skin around her neck and cleavage.

And ohhh, that collarbone. He was tempted to groan with the temptation of kissing and nipping at that beautiful, perfect skin. And then – oh, no. Words. Not his words. Why was he speaking? He should not be speaking in a situation like this. "Jordan," he growled huskily. "I need... to kiss you." NO! Not the right words! The right words were something along the lines of, "I'm so sososososososososososo sorry!" That's more like what he should be saying to his extremely hot roommate. Not anything like what he had actually said.

She appeared momentarily alarmed, probably wondering what the freaking hell was wrong with him.

Lance was actually able to breathe for a second, before Jordan's eyes closed and her shell pink lips parted slightly. Then, all oxygen was thrown out the window as his lips came crashing down onto hers in an aggressive kiss, which she returned just as fervently. He felt her arms snaking around his neck and he smiled. He bit lightly on her lip. Jordan moaned and opened her mouth further, allowing Lance access. He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. For the first time in a long time, he was very, very thankful that he had been a tenor in his high school choir.

Lance realized that he needed to breathe desperately, so he slowly trailed soft kisses down from the corner of her mouth to the tender hollow of her throat. She made a sound akin to a purr as Lance suckled the skin, savoring it. She was most likely drunk right now anyway. I could be anyone, he thought, which jolted him out of his state of incohersion. He sat back and quickly made his way to the opposite end of the couch.

Jordan's hazy eyes came to rest upon him. "Lance..." she murmured lustily. "You cannot even begin to imagine how amazing that feels."

He just stared at he, dumbfounded. She was... enjoying it? As in, she wasn't angry? He let this raise his hopes ever so slightly, but then remembered the vast amount of alcohol most of the parties she went to contained. "You're drunk," he muttered gruffly, trying to stifle the fluttering feeling in his stomach. He stood abruptly and scooped her up. "You should sleep."

As he tried to walk, however, a smooth, warm hand stroked his cheek. "Lance, I didn't have anything to drink tonight."

He stiffened. "Pardon?" he replied weakly

She smiled gently and kissed him on the cheek lightly. Lance almost dropped her. "Jordan? Are you sure you're really sober right now?"

A look of comprehension dawned on her face. He relaxed, hoping that this meant that it had all just been a mistake. The millisecond was short-lived however, as her face fell, eyes squeezed shut and plump, perfect lips bitten in unmistakable hurt. "Y-you didn't mean it, th-then?" she asked, trying and failing to keep her voice from wavering.

"What?" he asked, stricken. Was this girl stupid? Have low self-esteem? Was she certifiably insane? If he wasn't mistaken, she was almost certainly crestfallen at such news of him not meaning the kiss. That only left one real question on the table – what in God's name was wrong with her? Jordan, the embodiment of perfect, the girl who could have any one guy on the planet if she could get to them, was disappointed that he, Lance, didn't mean a kiss? Was the world imploding?

Not that he wouldn't be ecstatic if that was true. This was the most beautiful, tempting, sweetest, funniest girl he had ever met in his entire life. But Jordan was far too perfect to be anywhere near as infatuated with someone like him as he was her. And he had it bad, he would admit that.

"The kiss. Why would you do that to me?" she asked angrily, a tear sliding out of her fiery eyes.

"To you?" he repeated incredulously."Do you have any idea what I go through every day? It's torture, sitting through all of those love confessions on the answering machine and reading the love letters that you get every day, knowing that you could have any man on earth within a week if given the chance. Do you think you get half of what people send you?"

Jordan laughed humorlessly. "And do you know how aggravating it is for me to realize that even though everyone else seems to send them, you never do? It hurts, Lance. Hurts a lot."

He stared blankly at her, then laughed madly and set her down on the floor.

She glared at him, indignant. "What the hell is the matter with you, Lance?" she shouted.

He stopped abruptly. "Me? Me? What the freaking hell is the matter with you? How could you possibly say that after saying that you wanted to actually kiss me?"

She swallowed hard. "What do you mean by that?" she asked quietly.

"What do I- ugh." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Jordan. Do you not see yourself?" He searched her face for any forms of recognition. "You are the most perfect person on earth. You could make anyone, male or female, swoon if you wanted to." He paused and, unable to meet her surprised gaze, looked up. "And... you could make your roommate fall completely, head over heels in love with you." He looked back at her.

Jordan's eyes were almost crying and she had taken to biting her lip again. "Lance..." she whispered, then threw her arms around his neck, her face buried in the crook of his neck.

He stiffened, feeling the curves of her body fit up against his irresistibly and it was very pleasant.

"Jordan," he managed to choke out. Wordlessly, she withdrew her head, but not her body, and stared into his eyes longingly, inching closer to his lips by the second until they were touching in a very light, soft kiss. He somehow regained control of his limbs and encircled her waist with his arms, deepening the kiss. Hesitantly, he ran his tongue along her lip and she enthusiastically responded. "Mmm..." she murmured and giggled a little.

Lance noticed absentmindedly that she tasted absolutely delicious – a mix between mint and honey. She even smelled fantastic. What was that word again? He was having trouble thinking coherently. Ah, yes. Lemon. Lemon verbena, if he was remembering correctly, which, in itself, was unlikely. She overwhelmed his senses, making extremely difficult for him to do anything but kiss her passionately. And judging by her actions, she was either thrilled by this or just horny. It very well could be either, but he was hoping for the former to be the case. What was his name again? Oh, that's right. He needed air.

Lance pulled away gently and breathed heavily. The angel in front of him's eyes were twinkling and her cheeks were filled with color, hair disheveled from one of his hands that he hadn't even been aware of.

A brilliant smile lit up her face. "Lance," she whispered.

Make that his angel. No doubt about it, any other guy that even came close to Jordan was getting it.

"Hey," he started, his voice still low and husky, his gaze continuously studying her tousled features. "Why me?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She smiled devilishly. "Because."

"Because why?" he pushed playfully, moving his lips to a mere hair's distance from her own.

He felt her breath hitch and gained an odd satisfaction. "Because," she replied, her lips actually moving against his now. "Did you ever think that all of those things you said about me were true about you, too?"

It was his turn for his breath to catch in his throat. "Jordan..." he said softly, taken aback.

She moved her lips up to his ear and whispered sincerely, "I love you, Lance."

He moved his head ever so slightly so that he could whisper in her ear as well. "I love you too, Jordan," he replied, burying his head in the crook of her neck and pulling her flush against him, as if she wasn't already close. He felt her shiver a little and he smiled, nipping the porcelain flesh at the base of her neck, then skimmed that gorgeous collarbone of hers with his lips. "By the way," he murmured, "you look great while you're sleeping."